


Veil, The

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-08-13
Updated: 2005-08-13
Packaged: 2019-05-15 15:22:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14793018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: Asked, rhetorically, who would ever be able to live with him? Except maybe her.





	Veil, The

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

**The Veil**

**by: Delightfully Eccentric**

**Pairing(s):** CJ/Toby  
**Rating:** YTEEN  
**Disclaimer:** The West Wing characters and histories aren't mine, and are used here for love, not money.  
**Summary:** Asked, rhetorically, who would ever be able to live with him? Except maybe her.  


He flirted with all kinds of women, when he could be bothered. He happened to be busy when he met her, his schedule an accident that made them friends. She decided, years later, that that was how it started. 

* 

"So, are you two-" 

Accompanied by a little twirling hand gesture that came to make her want to hurt things, the question was an inevitability that spanned the decades. 

She'd smile and shake her head, and sometimes, if it wasn't pinned up, her hair might fall in her face and be her mask. 

She'd look amused and almost had been, at first. The joke was old, old, old. 

* 

If she hadn't been living with someone (turned out she liked her own company better than she thought she did), they'd probably have worked it out of their systems within months. 

They'd have stayed friends. Someone so difficult to please couldn't afford to waste a person he liked. 

Their past would have become the old joke rather than their future. 

* 

There was his friend's wedding, and the, "Come, be my date," that wasn't a date, because it came years after the ship had sailed on the prospect of them ever having a date. 

(Even the speculation had moved on to drunken stumbles, and near-death experiences bringing about declarations of eternal devotion, and other things that didn't hold a great deal of attraction.) 

He was toasting with champagne. His cheeks were ruddy; his eyes were laughing (at what?). He was sure the room agreed it was highly unlikely he'd ever be doing this. The room concurred, loudly. He nodded. Asked, rhetorically, who would ever be able to live with him? 

His eyes were still laughing (she wasn't, and he must have noticed - his stare was unnerving) when he took a sip and lowered his glass and said, "Except maybe her." 

* 

They were quiet on the cab ride home. She kissed his cheek when they pulled up at her place. 

She didn't usually - perhaps it was that that made him call her, two hours later when she wasn't yet asleep. 

"In the interest of things not being awkward, I should clarify, I wasn't-" 

"I know." 

"I wasn't saying-" 

"I know." 

"It's just that you're the only woman-" 

He hesitated but she didn't let him off the hook this time. She didn't know (wasn't sure she wanted to). 

"Never mind," he said. 

The line went dead. 

* 

He said variations on the theme a lot more times. 

She thought it was cover-up. He hadn't meant to say it the first time and wanted to make it the next old joke. People took it seriously. 

She could see things working out the way he predicted. She didn't want them to. 

There was a period of about ten years during which every man she took to bed had the prospect of marriage to Toby to thank. 

She was always disappointed when she had to explain to them things he knew by instinct. 

She tried to set him up with a gaudy carousel of her friends. She was taken aback when, at last, it worked. 

* 

It wasn't like she never thought about it. 

If they had married, it would have been in Vegas or somewhere else where things cost too much. She wouldn't have been drunk enough to justify it. 

She wouldn't have worn white - he'd have been in casual wear, though it didn't suit him. There would not have been flowers (perhaps he'd have bought her one later). The veil would have been metaphorical. 

She thought about it. 

* 

It was the early hours of the morning when he called to tell her he was going to marry someone else. 

Her first thought was to be relieved. She thought it was over. 

* 

She didn't know how she felt about his wedding because she was too busy being aggravated by the pitying looks she received throughout. She'd like to have reminded everyone that it was he who said he thought they'd wind up taking turns at the school run. She was the one who didn't want to. 

That was the first time it occurred to her that just because he'd thought it'd happen didn't mean he wanted to either. After all, hadn't she thought he might be right? She would have liked to ask him, but it was too late now. 

She kissed his cheek, then his wife's, and said it was a beautiful wedding. 

* 

And maybe she wasn't the marrying kind, because she hated people asking her questions in the morning. 

Then again, she liked to touch. She missed touch. 

She could rest her hand on his arm, when he let her. 

She didn't want to marry him. 

It would be for the best if she could be 'not the marrying kind'. She could never be half as faithful to anyone else. 

* 

He called her in the middle of the night again. 

It was work. She convinced him it could wait for morning. 

It had been years since he'd mentioned marriage. 

She stretched herself in all directions across the bed and settled, curling into her pillow. 

She was still wearing the veil. 

End. 


End file.
